Wrong
by Dfsemina
Summary: Garry is insane, Ib does what she can but ultimately gives up, and Mary regrets. Oneshot


Disclaimer: I do not own Ib.

A/N: Just an idea that came to me. I'm taking inspiration where I can get it and putting it to use any way I can. The writing for my other fics is just not going the way I want it to at the moment.

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Title: Wrong

Mary had done wrong.

She realized that now, staring at the girl on the floor. She'd been unresponsive for hours now. Her best friend forever, Ib. The little girl looked absolutely distraught. She lay upon a man's lap. Garry. He was always in her way. He'd been taking nonsense to one of her dolls since they'd found him, laughing hysterically from time to time. She'd thought that she'd finally be rid of him. She'd thought Ib would let him go. That her new friend would believe it wasn't him and give up looking. She'd thought by getting rid of Garry she'd get to leave with Ib.

She'd been wrong.

Ib nestled herself further into Garry's lap, whimpering. The man did not notice, continuing his useless chatter with the doll in front of him. He laughed at some joke that he imagined his partner in conversation say. Ib shuddered. Though her head was now buried in Garry's chest, Mary could still hear the muffled sob. The feeling of wrongness intensified.

"Ib! Let's go! That can't be Garry!" Mary tried to convince her again. She wanted to leave.

Ib didn't even seem to hear her. She let out a wail that pierced the air, a helpless agonized sound. Every single Guertena creation that was close enough to hear it trembled at the utter despair apparent in the sound. Mary was a painting. She wasn't supposed to have a heart. But listening to the broken sound, she felt something break.

"We're friends forever, right Ib? You promised. You promised we'd leave here together!" Mary cried, pleading now.

Something she'd said seemed to hit a chord in Ib. She pulled away slightly from the Garry. Her head still pointed downward. A white-knuckled fist still clutching his coat. Still sitting in his lap, Ib echoed.

"Forever...promised...together..."

Mary perked up at finally breaking through to her friend. "That's right, Ib! Together forever! Let's go!"

Ib shook her head. "Together forever..." She lifted her head, finally, but she looked straight up at Garry's face, who continued spouting nonsense. "...all of us."

"No, no, no! That doesn't work! Only two of us can leave!"

Ib was gradually gaining her awareness back after the shock of seeing her purple-haired friend go mad. She finally tilted her head in Mary's direction, but only slightly.

"Two?"

"That's right. Only two can leave. You and me."

"Only two..." Ib echoed again, hand reaching up to caress Garry's red cheek. She'd slapped him earlier, trying to snap him out of it. She finally seemed to come out of her trance. "You two."

"What?"

Ib's eyes were clear, her voice firm as she repeated, "You two."

"Ib, I don't understand..."

"You," she stated looking directly at Mary, then turning her head towards the man's, "and Garry. You two should leave."

This wasn't what Mary wanted at all!

"No! Ib you have to choose!" _You have to choose_ me, she thought.

"I have."

"Garry's gone!"

"No," Ib corrected sadly. "Garry's sick. He needs to get out. If he gets out he'll feel better."

"That isn't a choice! You can't choose both!"

Ib turned in Garry's lap. She sat, back leaning against his chest. She tugged her rose out of the elastic waistband of her skirt and held it out in front of her with both hands. She turned it in her hands, ran fingers over the petals.

"You'd asked me before, remember? I wasn't lying. Do you remember what my answer was?"

Mary did. _I'd sacrifice myself._

"But we can leave," she insisted weakly.

"You still can. With Garry."

"But why?"

"Because... I love you both."

"You'll be stuck here forever," she tried warning her, hoping she would change her mind.

"No, I won't."

"What? How-"

Ib cut her off, correcting herself. "Well, that's not true. My body would be here forever."

"I don't understand." She felt like she hadn't understood anything during their conversation.

"I read a book earlier. It was about a little girl lost in a gallery. Alone, hungry, and thirsty, she died." Her eyes met Mary's briefly. "I'm human, Mary."

Mary felt dread clawing through her body though she still want quite sure where Ib was headed with this.

"We'll all escape. You two will leave. I... will die."

This wasn't right!

Mary threatened her again, "It'll hurt. You'll be in pain for days before you die! Just come with me!"

"I read another book too," Ib continued, ignoring Mary's pleas. "It was about the women here in the gallery."

Mary stayed silent, not knowing what else to do.

"I love this game, just like them. This way, we'll all leave at almost the same time...the same day at the very least."

Mary didn't understand until Ib yanked off a petal from her rose. Ib gasped in pain before letting out a breathy, "Loves me."

Mary froze.

Ib reached out for a second one. She savored the velvety feel of it between her fingertips before plucking it. She doubled over, letting out a silent scream.

"Loves me not... You like it too, don't you Mary?" She inquired, after she regained her breath.

It wasn't supposed to be this way!

Mary watched in mute horror as her fingertips closed around another petal. She tore this one off slowly. It was like torture, she could tell from Ib's expression, but her hand was trembling too much to pluck it off cleanly and quickly now. The still laughing Garry paid no notice to the young girl writhing in agony in his lap. "L-l-loves m-me."

"I don't like this game anymore." Mary whispered, feeling defeat settle into her body. Ib would not be convinced.

Ib had to try to grab the next petal four times before she was able to successfully grasp it. Her hand's movement was jerky and unpredictable as it removed the petal from it's stem.

"Loves me not." Ib met Mary's gaze and held it. "I don't think I like this game anymore either."

As she stared back into Ib's eyes she saw fear. Ib did not want to die. To disappear. She did not want to suffer. She did not want to starve or become dehydrated and die. But more than anything she did not want to feel the suffering of being alone. And she felt justified in her actions. For her, it really was a sacrifice, an act of love. She could feel the love she had for the two she so desperately wanted to save. It was in the adoration in her eyes as she gazed at her, even now at what she chose as the end of her life. It was in the way she was still nestled against Garry. It was the driving force of her every action since they'd met.

Her fingers had closed around the final petal. She cuddled up to Garry and kept her gaze fixed on Mary's. "Goodbye."

Mary could hear her say "I love you" in that single final word as the empty stem dropped from her fingers and her limp body slumped against Garry's chest.

It was silent, with the exception of Garry's delusional prattling. Finally, Mary moved. She stopped in front of Ib and picked up the fallen stem. She replaced it with her palette knife, hoping somehow that fulfilled Ib's wish of them all being together forever. Garry would not move from that spot, she was certain. He was too far gone. Ib's dead body would not be moved, she'd make sure of it. And her palette knife would represent herself. All together, like they'd wanted, though not the way they wanted. And she left the room.

A headless statute stood beside the doorway, waiting for her. It knew what had transpired. Mary could hear it speak, could feel its sympathy for her. They were both creations after all. It expressed its sorrow over the events, tried to comfort her, offered to walk her to the _Fabricated World_ painting so that she could leave like she'd wanted for so long. And she was reminded of Ib.

These creations, objects of her own kind, they felt too. They felt kinship to each other, had taken care of each other for years. She has called them brothers, sisters, ―_family_. She had not been as alone as she had thought. Had not been as alone as Ib or Garry would have if they'd become stuck within the gallery. And she knew that what she felt, as real as it seemed, could not even begin to measure up to the amount and capacity of feelings a human could have. She knew, without a doubt, that those she called family would all look out for their own interests first, herself included. She was _not_ human.

She thought of her fellow creations. They had all been content with their allotted space in this magical gallery world. All except her. But she should have been. She had all a living painting could ever need or want. With the blood offering she had provided, she could leave now, act human, gain a human's traits but she still would never be human. Could never even hope to be human, not really.

She glanced back at the door to the room that would act as her two human friends' tomb. As she walked away to continue her life in the gallery, she resolved to live it the way she should have.

Her steps were heavy with regret as she thought aloud, "I should have let them go."

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A/N: I've been itching to write something with Mary since she is gone in all the other fics I'm writing. I didn't expect to do it quite like this though. It's a bit short but I like the way it turned out. I may, as with anything I write, come back to polish it up or improve it later.

Thanks for hanging on until the end.

Until next time friendlies,

_Dfsemina_


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